Chapter 4: Si vic pacem - 7 Fac fortia et patere
by Darkpenn
Summary: There are debts to collect.


**John Wick, Chapter 4: ****_Si vic pacem_**

Author's Note: This is the seventh part of a story collection by Darkpenn. It follows part 6, _Hoc est bellum_. The collection begins soon after the end of the movie _John Wick, Chapter 3: Parabellum_.

**7\. Fac fortia patere**

1

When he reached the third level he ran into a large room, closing the door behind him. It was the old-fashioned type with a heavy plank that acted as a bar, and he lifted it into place. The guards would not be able to shoot it open but they would not take long to rig an explosive charge.

He ran to the balcony and looked over. The room where the High Table was meeting was on the second level, below the room next to him. He could see the balcony but it was certainly too far to jump and there was no way to climb down.

There was a balcony for the room next to him. In the courtyard below there were three helicopters parked.

He looked around the room he was in. There was a display of old suits of armour with the knights' weapons, separated from the rest of the room with a rope. And there were ropes tying back the curtains as well. He did a quick mental calculation. Might be enough. Maybe.

He collected the ropes and started to tie them together as soldiers began to hammer on the door. He tied one end of the rope around the handle of a battle-axe from one of the armour suits and returned to the balcony.

The balcony of the room next to him suddenly seemed like a long way away. He took a deep breath and threw.

The axe bounced off the stone railing. He hauled it up and tried again. Same thing.

The hammering on the door had stopped. Which meant that the soldiers were getting ready to blow it. They might not be sure that he was in this room but they were being systematic in their search.

He threw again. This time, it caught on one edge of the railing. It did not feel very secure but he was running out of options. He climbed onto the edge of the balcony and tried to not look down.

The door blew.

He launched himself into space.

2

"I was not expecting to escape into a small war but I suppose we may as well take advantage," said Trixie, as she and Elizabeth ran through the chaotic hallways.

"Do you know who these other guys are?" said Elizabeth.

"No, but the High Table has many enemies, and some of them are smart enough to launch an attack when attention was focused on Mister Wick."

They came to the top of a staircase that led to the main door. At that moment, one of the attackers fired a rocket-propelled grenade into a nearby group of High Table soldiers. It exploded with a roar. Elizabeth was knocked backwards by the concussion and Trixie went tumbling down the stairs.

3

He was almost at the lower balcony when the axe came loose from the railing above. For a moment he flailed at the air, and managed to grab hold of the railing. The axe with the rope fell past him. With an effort he was able to haul himself up.

He straightened his clothes and ran his fingers through his hair. When confronting the High Table, after all, one should look the part.

He took out the Glock and fired at the lock on the door, and then pulled it open. He strode in.

"Hi," he said. "I am John Wick."

There was a rule that no members of the High Table were to carry weapons but obviously not everyone obeyed it. One member jumped up from his chair and pulled a pistol from his jacket. Wick shot him in a single movement. Another man tried to take a gun from a holster strapped to his ankle, and he went down as well.

"Anyone else?" said Wick.

They all stared at him, astonished.

"You," said Berrada from his place, "have a habit of showing up in the most unusual ways."

The Elder was seated at the head of the long table. "Mister Wick," he said. "Why are you here? What do you want?"

"I want two things," said Wick. "First, you have something of mine. I would like it back."

"Ah," said the Elder. "Your keepsake. Yes, I have it right here. I carry it with me, as a reminder of the nature of trust and memory. And no, I will not give it to you. You will just have to kill me – "

Wick shot him. In the head. The Elder of the High Table fell back, dead.

Wick went to him and searched the body until he found his wedding ring. He put it onto the ring finger of his right hand.

"And the second thing?" said Berrada.

"To be left alone," said Wick. "I want your word that you will not come after me or any of my friends. Ever. If you cannot give me that I will kill you now, one after the other. I have enough bullets for everyone."

The surviving members of the High Table looked at each other. Several of them glanced at the door. And realized they would not make it.

"Very well," said the woman who had been sitting next to the Elder. "You have the word of the High Table."

Wick nodded. "Then you may go," he said. "I suggest you do so quickly. And make for those helicopters down below."

There was a scramble for the door. In a few moments, Wick was alone. "Not what they pretend to be," he murmured to himself.

4

Trixie, bruised from her fall down the stairs but otherwise unhurt, got up and looked around. There was still fighting going on but the focus was moving away from the castle into the grounds. There was no sign of Elizabeth.

She went out through the main door and up to two men leaning against an SUV, smoking. There was another SUV, probably one that had carried some of the attacking force, next to them, its doors open.

"I assume," she said, "that you are the people responsible for this mess."

"You assume correctly," said the one in the more colourful suit. He offered her a cigarette, which she took. He lit it for her.

A helicopter passed over them. Another was not far behind. They could hear the third one lifting off.

"That will be the High Table, hightailing it to a minimum safe distance," said Trixie. "Pity we can't do something about it."

The tall guy pulled something from the back of the SUV. "There is this," he said. "But I am not familiar with this sort of weapon."

It was a Stinger heat-seeking missile.

"Give it here," said Trixie. She pushed various buttons and lifted it onto her shoulder.

The third helicopter passed over them. Trixie aimed the missile. It made a beeping sound, and then a solid tone. She pulled the trigger.

The missile leaped out of the casing and towards the helicopter. It hit, and the helicopter went up in a gust of smoke and flame. The remains spiralled to the ground.

Trixie threw the casing aside. She glanced at the fiery ruin. "Motherfuckers," she muttered.

Wick came up to them. "Adjudicator," he said to Trixie.

"Mister Wick," said Trixie. "Actually, it's ex-Adjudicator now. Thanks to you. Prick."

He smiled. "Don't mention it," he said.

"You might like to know," she said, "that your pretty friend from Administration is still somewhere inside. We were together but we got separated. I last saw her at the top of the stairs."

Wick started. "You mean Elizabeth?" he said.

"Yes, I believe that was her name."

Wick started back to the castle entrance.

"John," said Cassian.

Wick turned towards him.

"John," repeated Cassian. "The situation remains volatile. We should go."

"Yes, we should," said Trixie.

"She is here because of me," said Wick. "And she is an innocent."

He headed off.

Akoni looked at Trixie. "I have no idea who you are," he said. "But would you like a job?"

Trixie considered. "I don't think so," she said. "But I could use a lift."

Akoni nodded. "To where?" he said.

"New York," said Trixie.

5

Wick made his way into the castle. It was nearly empty, although there was the sound of gunfire from outside. He went up the stairs, drawing the Glock.

"Here, Mister Wick," said a voice.

Berrada. He was at the end of the hallway, out of his wheelchair, balancing on the cast on his leg. He was holding Elizabeth in front of him, as a shield. His arm around her and a gun to her head.

"I knew you would come back for her," said Berrada. "And I wanted to thank you. With the Elder gone I can move into the big chair. He was an idiot, you know. Thinking he could rule the world from a tent in the desert. A man who made the mistake of believing his own myth. Now, Mister Wick, the gun, please."

Wick held up the Glock and pushed the clip release button. The clip fell to the floor.

"Berrada," said Wick. "When Sophia was going to kill you I stopped her. So you owe me a life."

Berrada smiled. "So I should not kill you?" he said.

"You can pay your debt," said Wick, "by letting her go. Kill me if you must but she has no part in this, not really. She is an innocent."

Berrada continued to smile. "Oh, Mister Wick, you really are a fool. Do you really believe all that bullshit about debts and honor and coins and markers and who owes who?" he said. "Yes, I owe you a life, Mister Wick. But I will not repay you. In fact, I will kill this woman as you watch. Exactly because she is an innocent. That will be the last thing you will see before you die. You will know that you were responsible."

Wick saw Elizabeth move slightly.

A stiletto blade dropped out of her sleeve and into her hand.

She rammed it into Berrada's thigh. He shouted in pain, and in his surprise he released his grip on her. She dodged aside.

Wick raised the Glock. No clip.

But one in the chamber.

The bullet went through Berrada's eye and into his brain. He remained upright for a long moment, and then fell back. A pool of blood began to spread.

Elizabeth stared down at the body. Then she kicked it.

She looked at Wick. "I, for one, am not surprised," she said.

He smiled. "Let's go," he said.

END (to be continued)


End file.
